


can't keep running after yesterday

by inthehallway



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, it’s literally all angst i’m sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 05:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12204609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthehallway/pseuds/inthehallway
Summary: Harry had a lot of plans for tonight. Running into the person who shattered his heart wasn’t one of them.





	can't keep running after yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> this idea has been running through my mind for a while, so i decided to finally sit down and write it. harry's album inspired a lot of it, and it's based on the implication that harry and taylor had an on and off relationship spanning over a few years. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy, and please let me know if you like it!

The thing is, he can still remember exactly how he felt the first time he saw her. The first time he kissed her. The first time he left her. The first time she left him, and the last time she did, too.

It’s been nearly three years since then, and he almost doesn’t believe his eyes when he sees her across the room.

He’s at some industry party Jeff dragged him to. They’re at a mansion just outside the city, and there’s people he recognizes everywhere. Other artists, record executives, producers. He’s on a week long break from tour, and this is frankly the last place he wants to be right now. What he wanted was to just stay in and relax. Maybe watch a movie, drink some wine. Harry had a lot of plans tonight for tonight - being at this party wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t in the mood to mill around and make small talk with other people in the industry, but Jeff told him it would be good networking to go, especially since there would be a lot of big names there. _Grammy nominations are coming up,_ Jeff reminded him, _we’ll only stay for an hour, I promise._ He had practically had to drag Harry out of the house. Harry is nursing his second drink, counting down the minutes until he can go home and get back in bed. And then he sees her.

Harry had a lot of plans for tonight. Running into the person who shattered his heart wasn’t one of them.

It’s the first time he’s seen Taylor in person in years, and their last meeting isn’t exactly one he’s eager to reminisce on. A few months after she had ended things with him without so much as a goodbye, he saw her at an awards show. Front row with her new boyfriend. It was one of the most miserable nights of his life, and he hates dwelling on it, still refuses to talk about it. That was the night he knew it was truly over with her for good. It was a hard pill to swallow at the time. Still isn’t the easiest now, years later.

She’s standing on the other side of the room with someone he doesn’t recognize. Glass of champagne in her hand, tiny black dress fitting her like a glove. Her hair is longer. She laughs at something her friend says, and it makes his heart pick up speed. He can’t believe she still has such an effect on him even now. He can’t pull his eyes away.

“H, what the hell are you starin- oh,” Jeff says, snapping Harry out of it. He looks at Jeff and sees him staring at Taylor now, too. “I didn’t know she was going to be here.” Harry hates the sympathy and pity in his voice.

“It’s fine,” Harry starts, and he can’t help that his eyes wander back over to her. It feels almost magnetic. “”S not like I wasn’t going to run into her eventually. It’s fine.”

Jeff gives him a look like he knows it definitely isn’t fine, and sighs. “Well are you gonna talk to her?”

It’s such a loaded question. Talking to her wouldn’t just be a simple catch up between old friends, a quick hello between acquaintances. They aren’t either of those anymore. There’s things he’s wanted to say to her for a long time, and he bets she probably has some things she wants to say to him as well. If they have a conversation, it isn’t going to be easy.

“I don’t know. Probably. I should, right?”

“I think you should,” Jeff nods, “I think it would be good for you.”

Harry watches Taylor pull her phone out of her bag and put it up to her ear, answering a call. She says something to her friend, then pushes her way through the people around her and heads out the floor to ceiling glass doors leading to the balcony. He looks back at Jeff, and Jeff is watching him. “Go.”

Harry feels like he’s being presented with an opportunity he wasn’t sure he would ever get; to talk to her alone, to try to get some answers once and for all. To finally get some sort of closure.

If he doesn’t do this now he’s afraid he never will. So he downs the rest of his tequila, and hands the glass to Jeff. He pats Harry on the back, and Harry starts slowly walking across the room. The closer he gets to the balcony, the more nervous he feels. He hasn’t spoken to her in almost three years.

When he slides open the glass door and steps out, he doesn’t see her. The balcony is huge, and there’s only a few people scattered around. It’s New York City in October, it’s getting chilly. He realizes then that the balcony wraps around the corner, and starts walking. That’s when he hears her voice.

“No, I’m not staying much longer. I know I have to get up early,” she says to whoever is on the other end of the phone, “Okay, I will. I’ll see you in the morning. 8 a.m. sharp, I know. Okay, bye.”

Taylor hangs up the phone but doesn’t move from her spot leaning on the railing. She hasn’t noticed him standing there yet, and he takes a moment just to look at her. She’s still just as beautiful as he remembers.

Then she looks up. Her face is one of complete shock, and he feels bad that he’s blind sighting her like this. At least he had a chance to prepare himself.

“Hi, Taylor,” He says, and his heart starts beating double time.

“Hi, Harry.” There’s a question in her voice. She still looks surprised, but she’s smiling a little too. She’s looking right at him now. Her eyes are so, so blue, and he was always so captivated by them. She’s wearing red lipstick. So much has changed, yet so much is still the same.

“Fancy running into you here.”

Taylor laughs, and Harry had forgotten how much the sound made his heart swell. She quirks an eyebrow and asks, “Right here, on this balcony?”

Harry knows he’s been caught. “Okay, you got me. I saw you inside a bit ago, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a conversation with _The_ Taylor Swift.”

She shakes her head at him, but she’s smirking. “That _would_ be stupid of you.”

“Don’t I know it.” He’s just happy she’s playing along and not telling him to leave, or leaving herself. “How are you?”

“In general? I’m great. Right now? I’m fucking freezing,” Harry laughs as she rubs her arms, her sleeveless dress doing nothing to protect her from the cold air. “Don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to come out here without a jacket.”

Harry doesn’t even think before he’s sliding his own jacket off. “Here, take mine.”

“No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s fine Harry, you keep it-“ Taylor puts her hands up in protest, but Harry is having none of it. If they get to talking, he thinks they might be out here for a little while. The least he could do is make her more comfortable in the uncomfortable situation they’re about to be in.

“Taylor, just take it. At least I have pants and long sleeves. You’re shivering. Take it, just for while we’re out here.”

Taylor sighs and takes the jacket he’s holding out to her, and slips it on. She looks so small. He’s instantly transported back to five years ago in this same city. She was wearing a little black dress in the middle of December, no jacket then either. The second Harry saw her shiver in the slightest, he took his own coat and put it on her shoulders. She protested then, too. But she finally gave in, and Harry spent the rest of the night in a short sleeve shirt in the freezing cold, and he didn’t mind at all.

“Still such a gentleman.”

“Well, I try.” He grins, and he can’t ignore the pang in his chest. He’s missed this playful banter, missed joking around with her. He always had so much fun with her.

Taylor’s still smiling at him, then she turns and looks back out into the midnight sky. He couldn’t look away from her if he tried.

Neither of them say anything for a minute, and he’s surprised that the silence doesn’t feel that uncomfortable. It’s weighted, if anything. They both know the conversation that’s coming. He waits for her to speak.

When she does, she asks him, “How have you been?” She’s still not looking at him.

“Good,” Harry starts, “I’ve been good. I’ve been on tour, just have a bit of a break right now. It picks back up in a few days.”

“That’s amazing, Harry,” Taylor says, and she sounds truly curious when she asks, “Do you like it? Doing it alone? Without the other boys?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s different, and it took some getting used to. But yeah, it’s really fun.”

“You always did love touring.”

Harry smiles despite himself. It’s such a little thing to be happy about, but he’s glad she at least remembers some little details about him. He remembers so many about her. “You’re right, I always have.”

Taylor glances at him and smiles, and he can’t help but smile back. “Congratulations on the album, by the way. I’m really happy for you.”

Harry wants to ask so badly. Ask if she’s heard it, what she thinks of it. If she’s knows it was all for her. He wonders if she ever still thinks of him when she sits down to write a song. He thinks of her more often than not when he does. He wants to know every single thought and opinion she has on his music. Instead, he just says “thank you.”

Taylor keeps staring at him, and then she shakes her head and says, “Sorry, it’s just – I almost can’t believe you’re standing here in front of me. It’s strange, right? It’s been what, two years - ?”

“About two and a half, yeah.” Two and a half years since the last time he saw her, but he didn’t even speak to her that night. Just watched her from afar. It’s been nearly three since they’ve said a single word to each other.

“Right,” Taylor nods.

Harry doesn’t even know how to start this conversation. It’s only the second time he can remember being at a loss for what to say to her. It was usually so easy with them; never running out of things to talk about. The only other time he had felt this was was during the first real conversation they had since they broke up the first time. Everything had felt the same then, but it was all so different. A lot like now – and it’s still just as hard for him. _We’re not who we used to be._

Thankfully, Taylor gives him an easy in. “So, um, what did you want to talk about?”

Cutting right to the chase. Here goes nothing. “I guess – I kind of feel like there’s some things I want to know. If you wanted to tell me.” Harry shrugs. “I feel like… I never was able to get closure with us, with what happened. So. Now’s as good a time as any I guess.” He laughs humorlessly, feeling beyond anxious.

Taylor meets his eyes, and nods. This conversation has been a long time coming and they both know it. She heaves a big sigh, and it’s a few moments before she speaks.

“When I left – when I ended it, I know I didn’t give you a good explanation,” she starts, and Harry already can’t breathe. “I felt like if I didn’t do it then I never would. And I had to do it the way I did, because I didn’t trust myself to not give in again. Do you know how many times I told myself I was done for good, Harry? But we _always_ went back to each other. No matter what, no matter how much time passed. It wasn’t healthy, and we were just hurting each other over and over again. I had to do it.”

He understands. It was two years of back and forth, on and off. Always running away from each other and then running back to each other. Fighting and falling and fucking and then fucking it up. He never could stay away from her, no matter how hard he tried. He knows it was the same for her. It was beyond addicting – she was like his drug. He understands where she’s coming from, but he still feels bitter about the way she handled it.

“Would have been nice to know,” Harry says, not even trying to hide the anger and hurt he feels about the situation. “I wish you would have just told me.”

Taylor lets out a frustrated noise, and steps closer to him. “You don’t get it, Harry. If I had tried to tell you, to talk to you about it, you _know_ you would have convinced me to stay. That it would be alright.” Taylor keeps going, “But we were just going in circles, and it was never going to work out. I felt like I had to cut you off completely in order to finally let go and move on. And I’m sorry that I hurt you. I really am. But one of us had to do it, Harry.”

Harry’s throat tightens and he feels like he’s reliving it all over again. How much losing her wrecked him. How miserable he was for the weeks after.

He still has to ask, though. “Did you ever regret it?”

Taylor thinks for a minute, her eyes searching his face. “Yes and no. It was hard at first. I missed you. And then I met someone else, and I loved him,” Harry looks away from her, stares out at the bright city lights instead. “And I wished we could have just been friends, but we never would have been able to. It would have been too hard for both of us. But I still missed you sometimes, you know?”

He knows. He knows how much he missed her. He knows that she fell in love with someone else, and he knows that relationship ended messily as well. He knows Taylor loved Calvin, and Calvin loved Taylor. Harry thinks now that maybe she thinks Harry never loved her like he did, because he never told her so.

“I loved you, you know. I really fucking loved you,” he huffs out a breathy laugh, though nothing about this is funny. “You - you were my first real heartbreak. My only one, I think.”

Taylor turns to stare out at the skyline just like him, and she doesn’t say anything for a long time. He wonders what she thinks about when she looks at the city lights, shining so brightly. He hopes she sometimes thinks of him when she sees them, like he always thinks of her. No matter how much time passes, he will always associate New York City with her. Which is strange, because he’s been with other people here since. But being in this city will forever remind him of being young and sneaking into her hotel room late at night and falling asleep next to her and waking up next to her and falling too hard and too fast.

When she does speak, it startles him. She’s finally looking at him. “You never told me.”

“I think you and I know I’ve never been the best at saying how I feel.”

She chuckles dryly. “I heard the album. I know.”

And there it is. The one thing he’s spent the past months wondering about. There were days when he thought he would never get an answer and that it would torture him forever. Some days he didn’t even want to know the truth, for fear of being let down by it. But now that he does, he’s glad. “So you _did_ listen to it.”

“Of course I listened to it, Harry,” She says in disbelief, “Of course I was curious.”

It feels sort of like a weight lifted off his shoulders, knowing she’s heard everything he wanted to say. All the things he wanted her to know that he never had the courage to say to her face. That it nearly broke him when she was gone for good, that it devastated him seeing her with someone else, that he just wanted her to come back and take his pain away. “Well, did you like it?”

“It did well, and got great reviews. You should be proud. I thought it was great,” Taylor says sincerely. “But does it really matter if I liked it?”

“Yes.” He would never admit to her just how much it matters to him. “It mattered to you what I thought of yours, didn’t it?”

Taylor nods. “You’re right. That was different though, I guess – I don’t know. It mattered to me what you thought because it was about you, and everyone knew it.” She gives him a small shrug, and she won’t meet his eyes again. For how much she owns her songwriting, it still surprises him that she’s so bashful when talking about the album to him. She had been back then, too. He remembers the night she invited him to her house and said to him _I have some songs I want you to hear_ _and I want your honest opinion on them._ He remembers hearing them, and thinking she was the most brilliant person he’d ever met in his entire life. He remembers thinking he was lucky.

Now, he wonders if she even knows that his are about her. “Aren’t you going to ask if any of mine are about you?”

“I don’t think I need to,” her smile grows, and he smiles back despite himself, despite the tightness in his chest. “You’re not exactly subtle, Harry.”

Harry laughs, and he almost can’t believe they’re really having this conversation. He’s thankful for the mood being lightened a little, because for a second there he felt like he was going to break down right in front of her eyes. “Well, I learned from the best.”

“Touché,” Taylor’s still smiling, and he realizes how much he’s missed her smile being just for him. She looks at him for another moment, then looks back out into the night. Her smile has dimmed. “I think – I don’t think it was that obvious to other people, but it was obvious to me, you know? Like… some of the little details in the songs, I knew they were in there for me.”

“Right,” Harry nods at her, and tries hard to swallow down the lump in his throat. This conversation is giving him whiplash. One second they’re laughing together, the next he feels like he’s going to fall apart. He guesses their relationship was always like that – things always went from good to bad so quickly. “Yeah, that was the point. I didn’t know if we would ever talk about it so, um  – I wanted you to know somehow.”

“Well, thank you,” she says, and he doesn’t think he imagines the way she sounds a little choked up, “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad we are talking about it. And I _am_ sorry.”

It feels like a punch in the gut, hearing her say it. Putting that song on the record made him feel incredibly vulnerable and exposed, and the fact that she’s acknowledging it overwhelms him. _Maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry, too… but you never do._ Yet here she is.

Harry thinks back to that morning. He remembers waking up alone in bed, wondering where she had gone. He looked for a note. There had been plenty of times when they had spent a night together and she had to leave early in the morning before he woke up. She always left a note for him when she did. She didn’t this time, though. He had called her a few times, sent her some texts asking where she had gone. She never returned them.

Harry thought these wounds had finally turned to scars, but it turns out they had just scabbed over, still fresher than he thought. He feels like he could bleed out right here, right now.

He’s been waiting so long for an apology, tortured himself over whether or not he’d ever get one. She’s offering it up to him so easily now. “It was hard for me, to go from having you like that to not having you at all. You were a part of my life for over two years. I know it was on and off, and we were ‘friends’, and we were more than that, but… I had gotten so comfortable with it. I thought you would be around forever, at least in some capacity, you know? And I know - I know that isn’t right. I know I took you for granted sometimes. But even if we weren’t together, even if all the other stuff wasn’t happening, I thought we would at least be friends no matter what.” He realizes now how naïve he was to believe that.

“You and I were never just friends, Harry. You know that. And like I said before, we never could be.”

He knows she’s right. They had tried to be just friends, and they had ended up in bed together every single time. It was never going to change. That didn’t really make it any easier to accept. Just because it was the right thing to do didn’t mean it wasn’t fucking painful.  

“I always thought – I don’t know. I guess I thought maybe one day we would have another chance. That we would try again,” Harry gives a little shrug, his voice quiet. He’s been waiting to have this conversation for years, convinced it would ease some of the hurt. Now that it’s happening a part of him feels like he would have rather gone his whole life in the dark. Not knowing would have hurt less, been easier to swallow than the truth. “That’s why I could never really make it work with anyone else. Why I always came running back to you every time.”

“For a while I thought maybe we would get another chance, too,” Taylor admits. She sounds as dejected as he feels.

“Do you think if we had tried again – do you think things could have been different? Do you think it could have worked?” He can’t help himself from asking.

Taylor doesn’t hesitate. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Oh.” The conviction in her voice cuts him deep – he’s spent a lot of time wondering about what would have happened if things had been different. If they could have stayed friends, if they could have made their way back to each other eventually. He can barely even look at her, now.

“Harry, don’t get me wrong,” she starts, and she sounds sad. He forces himself to meet her eyes; she looks sad, too. “I used to wonder, too. _All_ the time. What if we had met when we were older, when we were both ready? What if we weren’t so famous, and people didn’t care so much about our relationship? But the thing is… that isn’t what happened.”

 “Um, I always kind of thought it was, like – wrong time, right person. You know? Like, we still cared about each other, and we still wanted to be together. The timing was just off.”

Taylor shakes her head. “We met at the wrong time, we both know that. But that doesn’t mean _we_ were right. A huge issue in our relationship was the media, and the fans, and the rumors. And we were both getting even more famous. Nothing would have changed. It would have just been even worse. Think about it, Harry. _Really_ think about it. If we were together now, do you really think it would be any better? You know it wouldn't. ”

He does know. The biggest problem in their relationship was always the people who weren’t even in it. It’s the reason they hid the fact that they were still in each other’s lives after they broke up, the reason they wouldn’t dare be seen in public together anymore. Waking up every morning to a new nasty headline, the disrespectful comments and tweets, the hate when they were together - it was hard on both of them. It was even harder on their relationship; in the end, it couldn’t survive it.

“It still hurt,” Harry sighs, looking back out at the skyline. He doesn’t think he can handle looking at her right now. He doesn't know if he's ever been this honest with her before, with anyone. But he needs to lay all of his cards on the table. “Still kind of does, if I’m honest.”

“I know. Just because it was the right thing to do doesn’t mean it was easy for me either.” She says mournfully.

Harry doesn’t know what to say, and they’re both quiet for a long time. He couldn’t guess what she’s thinking right now if he tried. He feels like he’s being ripped apart at the seams, and he wonders if she feels anything close to what he’s feeling right now. He used to feel like he knew everything about her, could read her so well. He used to be able to tell exactly what she was thinking at any given moment from the look on her face or the sound of her voice. He can’t now. Maybe it’s time for him to finally accept that he doesn’t really know the person standing in front of him anymore.

Harry doesn’t expect her next question at all. “Are you happy?”

He still doesn’t really know what to say. Sure, he’s happy enough. He’s making music he loves, his album did well, he’s selling out shows around the world. “Yeah. I’m happy. Could be happier, I guess.”

Taylor chuckles darkly. “Couldn’t we all.”

“What about you? Are you happy?”

She stuffs her hands into the pockets of his jacket, and he can’t help the way his lips turn up at that.  “I’m happy.”

“Good,” He says, and he means it. Her happiness has always been important to him. Even when she broke his heart, he hoped she was happy. He knows she has a new boyfriend now, he had seen it all over the internet. He hopes he’s good to her. Hopes he doesn’t take her for granted like he had himself so many times in the past. “You deserve to be so happy.”

Taylor meets his eyes, and he sees that hers are wet. He knows then that this is just as hard for her as it is for him. He knows that they both hurt each other more than they could have ever imagined when they had first met, wide eyed and so young. He wants to cry for those two kids for thinking it would ever last. For thinking that they could have been that happy together forever.

“You deserve to be happy just as much as me, Harry,” Taylor tells him, her voice shaking. She's playing with the ring on her middle finger, twisting it around. She always used to do that when she was nervous. Maybe he does still know her, after all. “I still care about you, so much. And I want you to find someone who makes you so happy. I want you to try.”

The lump in his throat is back. The thing is, he has tried. He's not stupid enough to believe she's still hung up on him, and he doesn't think he's still in love with her, either. It's been years. There's been plenty of others since her, and he has cared for other people. Been close to loving them, even. But he never has. He's never felt about someone the way he felt about her. But she wants him to try harder, and he doesn’t want to let her down. He’s done that too many times before. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Promise?” She holds her pinky out to him, and he can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his chest. Pinky promises had always been their thing. He remembers the first time they ever did it. They were laying in her hotel bed in New York, and he was leaving that day to fly to London. He told her he was going to miss her, and she said “promise?” and stuck her pinky out to him. He had wrapped his pinky around hers, and when she said ‘you have to kiss your hand for it to count’, he kissed her instead. They did it for everything after that. It always made her smile so wide. That’s what he loved about it.

She’s smiling just as big now. He wraps his pinky around hers like he’s done so many times before, and she lifts their hands to his mouth and kisses her own. He does the same to his. It might not be the same as it used to be, but at least it’s something.

He pulls his hand away, and her eyes are still wet. “I loved you too, you know.”

His are too. “I know.”

“Okay.”

”Okay.”

They’ve said everything they’re going to say. Even though it was hard, he feels so grateful. A little bit hopeful, too. He knows things are never going to be the way they used to be between them. They’ll probably never be as close as they were before, never be together again. But he feels like he’s leaving this conversation with some closure. And he hopes maybe one day in the future they can be friends, when the sting of what they lost, what they could have been, has completely faded away for both of them.

He needs to be the one to leave this time. Despite everything, he doesn’t think he could handle watching her walk away from him again.

“I should probably get going. Jeff is waiting,” He gestures over his shoulder back to the party inside.

“Yeah, me too,” Taylor takes his jacket off slowly and hands it back to him. “I didn’t even realize how long we’ve been out here.”

He didn’t, either. It feels like an eternity and a minute all at the same time. He could stay out here with her forever, if she’d let him. He’d do anything for more time, but he knows right now there isn’t any more left for them.

“I’m really, really glad I saw you tonight,” He tells her, and he doubts she even has any idea how much he means it. He doesn’t try to hide the hope in his voice when he asks, “See you around, maybe?”

He knows it will probably be a while before he runs into her next, let alone has a chance to talk to her like this again. He wishes he could to take a snapshot of her in this moment, and tuck it away for whenever he’s sad, or lonely, or happy, or so fucking tired of not having her in his life anymore. Sometimes he still can’t believe how beautiful she is. She smiles so softly, and her eyes are shining.

“Maybe.”

He gives her one last smile, then turns around and walks away. He can live with maybe.


End file.
